Seasonal nightmares grip all Astros fans,
Who dream, as I, one year might end in joy,
Torturing loyals for infinite spans -
My grandpa knew, and had, since when a boy;
Ev’ry suicide squeeze that plates no life,
Or failed double-steal which burgles all hope,
Temps we passionate souls to grab a knife,
And cut misery short as sorrows mope;
Yet, extreme measures never help at all,
Just ask Clemens, Pettitte, and Nolan Ryan;
Each of them came so that Houston in fall,
Could see much more than men, like me, cryin’.
Insanity though brings comfort to fear,
Reminding us, that next, will be our year.
- In celebration of the 55th consecutive year
my beloved Astros have failed to win a
championship.

A Lizard Sonnet
If you travel to escape the small lizard on your back
You will eventually be outside your parents’ house
Only they have long since go
Someone else lives there perhaps a child sleep in your bed
Dreaming your dreams
You walk down a street where you used to play
But no one knows, and the sense of loss overwhelms you
Swallow hard not to cry because your memory is untrue.
You left to get a small-minded town, poverty, and screams
In the night, but it was worth going back to remain you what
An awful place you left.
I have a small lizard in the kitchen have tried
To kill it because it is grey and without redeeming colours that
Could make it into a pet but it is too quick and hide in corners
I can`t reach so it can live for now.